


Kintsukuroi

by The_Selective_Participater



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Crossing Timelines, Crossover Pairings, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, For the most part, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rare Pairings, Secret Marriage, Secret Relationship, Slow Burn, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-15 04:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11798757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Selective_Participater/pseuds/The_Selective_Participater
Summary: Dean tells himself he's a loner by choice, that he can't risk anyone getting too close.John tells himself he's a damaged soldier, that casual relationships are all he can allow for himself.They're both idiots.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I absolutely love rare pairing, especially when they involve people I love. I try to keep it close to canon but I'm not tied to that rule, as long as I'm having fun. 
> 
> Chapter 1 is set S01e01-S01e19

 

It takes an embarrassingly long time to notice it. Although after watching your would-be fiance burst into flames while pinned to the ceiling, your older brother's choice of accessories would be the last thing on your mind. In fact he probably would have never noticed if not for the fact they were hunting. After destroying the 'crystal of power' that housed the souls of a witch's victims , instead of crumbling to dust or dissipating into mist as tradition, the witch's body spontaneously burst splattering everything in a 5-foot vicinity in a black goo, which of course they discovered was acidic after Sam heard Dean's hiss of pain from the other room.

When the witch exploded, his brother threw his hands up to protect his face and the exposed appendages got the brunt of the black mess. Luckily he always carried bottled water and was able to wash away the gunk before it caused further damage. Now they were back at the motel ready to check the full extent of the damage to Dean's hands. Sam sat next to him on the bed, digging through their supplies to find the necessary equipment to treat the burns.

"Friggin witches and their bodily fluids man!" Dean grumbled, gingerly holding his damaged hands out for inspection.

"She really got you good dude, I'm gonna have to wrap these up." Carefully he turned the older Winchester's hand forward and backwards, wincing at the red raw patches that were leaking in some places.

"Figured." Dean grimaced in pain, watching as his brother placed his hands down on a clean cloth. Sam tapped at the silver ring that Dean always wore on his right hand.

"Gotta take this off dude."

"Yeah, g'ahead." The ring was slowly removed and placed on the bedside table next to Dean's bracelet and wristbands. After peeling off the dead skin, he liberally smoothed topical antiseptic cream over the worst of it and wrapped it all up in clean bandages. He moved on to left hand and paused.

"Huh, that's new." Dean glanced down at the mentioned ring on his left hand and shrugged.

"Things change." His tone was deadpan but expression oddly guarded. Sam frowned at the response, certain there was some deeper meaning behind it. One look at his brother -who was steadfastly avoiding eye contact- and he decided to drop it, choosing instead to inspect the ring. It was a simple enough design but well refined, a platinum band with an obsidian inlay. On the inside he could make out the initials J.W. carved into the platinum.

_John Winchester?_

Huh. Well he did have their mother's ring, would make sense to have their father's as well he mused to himself. With John missing it would make sense for his brother to want something of his to hold on to. Although... the design was oddly modern...

"Dude quit ogling and fix my damn hand!" Amused he glanced up just in time to catch his older brother's blushing face before he turned to hide it.

"Dean are you... _blushing_?"

"N-no! It's just hot as hell in this damn room!" Sam couldn't help but smirk at the excuse, but kept his retort to himself and finished wrapping up his brother's left hand.

"Done, we'll change this out tomorrow, see how it's healing up."

"Thanks, Sammy."

The brothers proceeded with their nighttime ritual, Dean with more difficulty, but eventually they crawled into their respective beds and fell silent. After a few minutes Sam glanced over at his brother to find him turning their father's ring over and over again in his bandaged hands, thumbs smoothing over the sides. His face was hidden in shadow but the feeing of melancholy was nearly palpable.

Sam really hoped they found their father in one piece, for his brother's sake.

 

...........................................


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so the timeline of BBC Sherlock isn't exactly clear but it says John finished his masters? In 2004 and spent 3 years in the army sooo I am assuming he got shot in 2007-ish and of course met Sherlock in 2010. 
> 
> Just wanted to establish my own timeline so things aren't confusing. 
> 
> Chapter 2 is set S02e01-S02e05

John. H. Watson, Royal Army Medical Corps doctor and Captain of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, reads the letter once, twice, three times and decides that something is definitely wrong.

The letter is similar to all the others, a postcard from whatever city or town Dean's in curently, a rundown of what he's up to, ending with questions about his well-being and current activities. It's a routine he's used to but it never fails to lift his spirits considerably.

This letter feels the same.

Except that it's all wrong.

His husband isn't exactly someone who can be described as 'in tune with his feelings', not that he's any more open himself, but he's always been able to read in between the lines, to see what was really being said in expressive green eyes. Reading this letter there is nothing. Nothing to connect the words in front of him to that man he's come to know.

With that he marches into the communications tent without preamble, the officer on duty taking one look at his face and slipping outside.

The emergency number rings twice before an out of breath voice almost shouts into the phone.

"John! Whats going on! Are you okay?!"

"No no no! Love, I'm ok. Really, I'm fine." He hurries to reassure.

"Damn it J, you scared the crap outta me..." Despite himself he found himself smiling, it had been nearly half a year since he's heard the gravelly southern drawl.

"Sorry, just wanted to hear your voice." He admitted truthfully.

"It's...I miss you, J. The letters are great and everything but it's not..."

John swallowed thickly, "...Yeah." Clearing his throat he continues, "How are things?"

"Fine, good. Everything's good." He let's the words hang for a moment before replying. "Dean...I know something's not right ok? It's why I called."

"John, I'm fine-"

"You've always been real shite at lying, at least to me. I thought we could tell each other anything, unless its something I did or said-"

 

"He's dead."

 

The silence is deafening. He draws in a breath not noticing that he'd ever stopped breathing in the first place.

"Sam?" A hitch of breath. "Dean, please talk to me."

"My d-dad. He's dead. He's dead and it's my fault J! It's my fault that he's rotting in hell right now and-Fuck!"

John's heart plummeted at the choked off cries, his own eyes stinging at the raw pain he heard. It was moments like these that he really hated the physical distance between them, he wanted nothing more than to be able to pull his husband into his arms and comfort him but for now he had to settle for mere words.

"Love, you need to breath. Please, try for me." After a few minutes of stuttering starts and stops, he listened as Dean wrestled his emotions into some semblance of control then preceded to tell him all that had happened in the past two weeks. When he got to the part about the reaper he felt his knees buckle and promptly sat down in the nearest chair. He knew that Dean's "job" was a dangerous one. He knew. But...he could have lost him and would never known. With their hectic,complicated lives they'd both mutually agreed to keep their union under wraps, at least for the time being and that was one of the unfortunate consequences of their union. Shaking his head he put those thoughts on the back burner and listened with a heavy heart to Dean's theory, of how his father made a deal to save him. Even if it were true, John was an adult capable of making his own decisions and he said as much.

"I know." Dean muttered.

"No, you dont. But you will."

"Sam will be back soon, and I gotta wash this snot off my face." Dean chuckled humorlessly, deflecting in the only way he knew how. This time John let him.

"Course, you'll contact me if you need anything, yeah? Even if you just need someone to talk to? I don't...I don't like it when you bottle all that pain up and keep it to yourself, I'm not just eye candy y'know." He grinned at Dean's surprised snort.

"It's why I keep you around." He retorted. Then in a more serious tone, "Thanks J, for...for everything."

 

"Always."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I know nothing about how the military operates or anything about the miltary at all. 
> 
> Next Chapter Dean's POV


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diverging from canon here a bit (only in regards to John's departure)to fit my timeline. Dean is 23 and John 31.
> 
> Chapter 3 set pre-canon 2002-2005

Dean is alone.

Sam's been gone for about three months now and his father left as soon as he had the chance.

He'd woken up to an empty hotel room in Duluth, Minnesota and a hastily scribbled note.

 

_Caught wind of a lead. Keep your head down._

_John W._

 

He reads the note a few times, crumples it up and smoothes it out again. Ultimately folding it up and tucking it away in his duffle. He doesn't know why.

Two weeks go by and he leaves the hotel behind, his cell silent in the empty seat beside him. He heads towards Louisiana for no particular reason, just never been. He goes on a few minor hunts, a poltergeist in Fort Wayne, a sorceress in Dunlap.

Three days later his dad calls him in Arkansas, the conversation is 43 seconds in total.

He's ok. Really.

That night he drinks until his hands shake and he sleeps without any dreams.

7 hours later he crosses into Shreveport. Alone. He books a hotel on the outskirts of town and spends nearly a week in bed. It's not that he wants to, he just can't...move. Four days later John calls and tells him he has to go radio silent, he'll call when he can. Dean tells him ok. He takes a shower for the first time in five days and shaves away a week's worth of scruff. He's so grateful his dad isn't here to see him, but he's fine now.

He's running low on cash. New Orleans is a couple hours away.

In four nights he racks up almost 3 grand, and only suffers a possible broken rib for his troubles, not at all a bad trade.

He likes New Orleans, the food, the sights, the music, the people. It's different and makes it so easy forget himself.

The night before he decides to move on, he comes across a scuffle in a side street. It's a dimly lit alley but he can clearly see the glint of a knife, without a second thought he jumps in grabbing the shabby man's wrist and sharply wrenching it. The man yelps in pain before Dean knocks him out with a punch he doesn't bother to pull. He turns just in time to see another attacker thrashing in a chokehold. When he finally stills the man holding him drops him unceremoniously to the ground with a muttered 'wanker'.

Noticing an audience he looks up rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck.

"Thanks for the help there mate. I seem to have a knack for finding trouble, a nuisance that."

Dean raises a brow at that, he can relate unfortunately.

"Don't mention it. Judging from the accent I'm assuming you're a long ways from home."

"You assume correctly. Here on holiday er...vacation." The shorter man steps forward with an outstretched hand. "I'm John by the way." Dean clasps the smaller hand in his own, silently approving of the firm grip.

"Dean."

"Let me buy you a pint, for all the trouble. It's the least I can do."

He's not sure why he agrees. He'll be gone by the morning and he's not exactly great company. The best thing to do is to decline, go back to the hotel where he'll pretend to sleep until it's time to put the city of New Orleans in his rear view mirror. Instead he nods.

"Brilliant, there's a decent place down a ways. Shall I lead the way?"

"Sure."

In tandem they step over the unconscious men and out into the better lit streets, beginning the quiet trek down the road. Peering out of the corner of his eye, he takes the time to observe the guy. John's at least a good head shorter than him but compact, a build that spoke of constant physical activity. Although his wind swept hair was a nearly platinum blonde color -suggesting lots of time outdoors- his complexion was fair like his own. Gunmetal blue eyes peer at him through long delicate lashes and he realizes with a start he's outright staring and quickly averts his gaze.

"This is it." John says leading him into a small dimly lit bar. The smooth dulcet tones of a lone blues singer drifts from the stage towards the back and he takes a moment to take in the atmosphere. He'd been here for nearly a week and hadn't truly stopped to experience it.

He follows John to one of the two empty booths, orders a whiskey, neat. John asks if they have any tea and surprisingly they do.

"I thought that tea thing was a myth." He joked good-naturedly.

"Oh no, it's the truest thing about us brits!" John retorted. Their drinks arrived and they sipped in companionable silence.

"You're not from here either, are you?" Surprised he looked up to a curious expression.

"What makes you say that?"

John shrugged. "Seem like the kind who isn't really _from_ anywhere, like me I guess." At Dean's blank expression he quickly added, "Didn't mean anything by it mate, just an observation."

Dean shook his head slowly. "No, it's just...that was surprisingly accurate." And it threw him off balance. People weren't supposed to _see_ Dean, they were supposed to see what he wanted them to. It was how he made it this far, how he kept going. He shifted in his seat suddenly uncomfortable.

"I guess you can say I'm from everywhere, my job requires frequent travel all over the country. Can't really afford to settle anywhere for long." John nodded, accepting the vague answer, and the hunter gradually relaxes.

As the night progresses they order another round of drinks, John substituting his tea for a whisky, Dean asking for the same. The conversation flows smoothly. John tells a story involving a past flatmate and a bath full of marmite that has them laughing until tears stream down their faces. Dean tells a joke that startles a childish giggle out of the blonde man, who blushes just as easily as he does he finds out to his amusement.

He notes that when John smiles the right side of his mouth kirks up a bit higher than the other, it feels genuine. He decides he likes it. He likes...him. _It's cause he's good company_ he tells himself.

It feels like only moments later when the bartender announces last call. They finish their drinks and make their way out into the streets, standing quietly side by side. Dean swallows thickly, he feels a sense of loss and that frustrates him. He should be ok with this. Being alone. _I prefer it_ he tells himself. This is-

"Uh, so I'm in town for another few weeks." John starts hesitantly. "I don't really know anybody..."

"Me too. I mean, I'm in town for a bit." He thinks of his duffel back at the motel, already packed and ready to go. "We can have another drink or something if you're not busy or anything-"

John beams like it's the best possible thing he could have said.

"No, I'm free."

They exchange numbers and say their goodbyes. Dean watches John's retreating back until he's out of sight before looking down at the new number entered into his contacts.

He doesn't get the point, he'll be gone soon.

They'll go their separate ways and he'll go back to being alone, as he should be.

He looks back at his phone and the numbers flashing on the screen.

He saves it under J.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter occurs right after this one(mostly John's POV), then back to the time skips cause I'm honestly lazy af.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switching POVs  
> Set Season 11ish
> 
> Let's pretend gay marriage was legal much sooner than it was ok? Ok.

 

"I think we should tell them."

  
Dean froze, soggy sponge falling in the soapy dish water below. He quickly swiped his hands against his jeans, turning to lean against the counter.

  
"About us I mean...Dean?"

  
"Yeah, still here. Just caught me off guard." He continued, adjusting the phone against his ear.

  
"I've been thinking about it. I know we mutually decided to keep mum about it but I kinda want to say sod it all you know? I don't want you to be hidden like some sort of dirty secret, Dean."

  
"Yeah, I uh get that." Something in his voice must have given him away because John's voice took on a noticeably softer tone.

  
"I'm not... I've never been ashamed of you. Christ we've been married for over a bloody decade."

  
"I'm not exactly a catch though am I." As soon as the words left his lips he regretted them. It was an argument they hashed out multiple times throughout the course of their relationship. John might not have cared about the different dynamics of their lives but Dean was painfully aware of them.

  
John was a decorated army doctor, a hero, who graduated with his masters. Dean...well he was a high school dropout with just a GED to his name. His husband claimed he didn't care or to be more accurate didn't - _give a bloody fuck_ \- and he would believe him. At least he did for a while, but then the insecurities he kept buried would rear their ugly heads and make an unwanted appearance.

  
"Dean..."

  
"I know it's bullshit alright. Like I said, this is coming out of left field."

  
John was silent in a way that never failed to make Dean feel unbelievably guilty before responding in an uncharacteristically subdued voice. "Do you not want to?" At that moment he absolutely hated himself for the hint of doubt he heard in that one statement.

  
"No, J. I want to, really. It's...wow this is finally happening huh."

  
"S'been a long time coming. I'd like it if you were here when I deliver the news?" Dean lit up at the suggestion, he'd hadn't seen John in person in over a year and the sappy part of him-only the sappy part of course- really wanted to feel the smaller man in his arms again. Hopefully by revealing their relationship the rare visits they paid each other could become a more regular occurrence.

  
"That's...yeah I'll be there, if you want."

  
"Of course I want you there you git." John chuckled, then in a more serious tone,"You'll let me know how it goes with Sam?"

  
"I'll call right after." They said their goodbyes right before Dean heard the telltale sounds of giant footsteps a moment before his brother's head popped around the doorway.

  
"Hey dude, I was looking for you. Want to catch that new Marvel movie with me? The reviews are great as usual."

  
"Yeah sure but I wanted to talk to you about something first." The younger Winchester frowned stepping fully into the kitchen.

"What's going on. Is everything okay?" Dean smiled to assuage the fear and worry he already felt emanating off of his brother.

"No need for those forehead wrinkles big guy, everything's fine." He leaned back against his spot at the sink and Sam followed his lead, yet to drop the worried frown completely.

"Whats this about?"

  
"There's not really a way to ease into it so I'll just say it. I've been in a serious relationship for quite some time now. We've been keeping it under wraps since the beginning but recently...we mutually decided to come clean, so to speak."

  
Sam stared at him in silent shock before asking, "How serious is serious?"

  
At this, the oldest Winchester shifted uncomfortably. "Uh. Like married serious...for about 10 years." He mumbled.

  
"Married!? For a decade?" Dean looked up, surprised at the explosive tone of his brother. He'd expected disbelief, hurt even, but not anger.

"What the hell, Dean? You kept this secret for ten goddamn years? This is the kind of shit you would share with your family, with me! I-" He cut himself off abruptly taking several breaths and running a hand messily through his hair. Dean watched silently giving his brother time to process not only the information but his emotions as well. A few minutes passed before Sam turned towards him with a calmer expression.

  
"I'm angry that you've kept this from me, but thank you for telling me now."

  
"I'm sorry about keeping this from you for so long, Sammy. It's...a shitload of information to go through." At that Sam smiled for the first time since his confession.

  
"Sooo, who's the lucky girl? She a hunter?"

  
"Not a she actually. And no he's a doctor, although he does know about what we do." Dean stated with a shrug. To his credit Sam looked surprised only for a moment before breaking into a grin and clapping a giant hand down on his shoulder.

  
"That's great man! I admit I'm curious about the guy who tamed Dean Winchester's heart. Tell me about him."

  
"Um, his name's John Watson, English, ex military. He's sharp as a whip but can hold his own in a fight. Loyal to a fault but won't hesitate to put me in my place. John's good, for me and to me. But most importantly he gets me..." Dean felt his face warming up and turned his face downwards to avoid the teasing that would definitely follow such a sappy statement. At the following silence he risked a glance only to see Sam looking at him with an equally sappy expression.

  
"I'm really happy for you man." They shared wide grins before Dean remembered his earlier promise.

  
"Actually I planned on taking a trip to see him soon if you want to meet him. In London that is."

  
Sam's barely contained excitement was answer enough and Dean winced at the enthusiastic clap on the back.  
"Dude that's awesome but what about your whole flying thing? The UK is more than a few hours right, over the Atlantic?"

  
One glance at his brother's rapidly paling face and he burst into laughter.

......................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That abrupt ending though.
> 
> Next Chapter Sam pov maybe? Idk.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...that took a while to update. My bad.

Hunters do not take vacations.

  
Time off sure, usually only as a necessity of an injury or even less so, mental fatigue. But the point is that vacations are fun, which Hunters _do not do_. This is the first time barring the brief excursion in Scotland that he's been overseas and he is man enough to admit that he's excited.

  
Not only is he looking forward to the many sites that London has to offer but he finally gets to meet his brother's husband. He pauses at that, mouthing the words quietly to himself. _Dean's husband_. Never in a million years would he think those words would have any relevance to their lives.

  
He thought back to hesitantly asking his brother if he considered himself gay or bisexual, not at all expecting an open answer, surprised when Dean answered fairly matter-of-factly. "Neither. I still dig women, I mean boobs are _awesome_ ," at this he offered his most wolfish grin before continuing, "I don't all of a sudden feel anything for guys, it's just John I guess. He's... different." Dean had flushed then, and being the merciful brother that he was, Sam dropped the subject. Glancing over to the seat besides him he shot his anxious brother a reassuring smile, Dean returned his look with a weak smile of his own, the drugs that coursed through his system easing the worst of his anxiety but his tense posture leaving him exhausted.

"Only 4 more hours to go man." He reassured. Dean's only response a tense nod and a mumbled curse.

  
.................................

 

Sam is in absolute awe of London, he spends most of their cab ride staring rapturously at the passing sights, only looking away to sneak quick glances at his brother. Dean doesn't seem as affected although every now and then a soft smile graces his features, No doubt thinking about his upcoming reunion.

  
He must admit that he's also a bit curious.

  
There is 10 years of history between his brother and this man that he has never met. All these years and he'd had no clue that his brother had someone who knew a side of him that not even Sam got to see. A civ who knew about the life and chose to stay. Not only was he curious about Dean's other half but he was quite looking forward to observing their dynamic. It was no secret that emotions were a department that the Winchester men admittedly lacked experience in, himself included. His relationship with Jess was not always smooth sailing and a major point of contention in their relationship was Sam's difficulty opening up and letting some of his walls down. Admittedly Dean has come a long way in terms of being more open and honest with him but he could tell that there was a lot being held back or filtered.

  
How different could he possibly be with John?

  
He snapped out of his musings when the cab pulled up to a curb and Dean announced, "We're here." He paid the cabbie while his brother grabbed their bags out of the truck.

  
_221 B._

  
The number seemed vaguely familiar but he shrugged it off and followed his brother into the front hall. A door opened somewhere overhead and a voice called down, "Dean?" Sam turned just in time to see a wide grin erupt across his brothers face at the sound of the voice, unable to help the grin that spreads on his own face at the obvious show of happiness.

  
"Its us, J." Dean calls back up to the descending man and Sam gets his first look at John Watson. "Apologies again for not meeting you at the airport, love. Here, let me help with those." The blonde man offers. He notes that although John was of shorter stature, he was obviously quite fit and handled the bags with ease. Dean returns back down to grab the other bags. Stepping inside the flat John deposits the bags and turns, offering a hand to Sam. He grasps it with his own noting the smile that matches his own is just as sincere.

  
"Nice to finally meet you, Sam. Although I feel like I've already known you with how much Dean talks about you."

  
"I'd say I hope they were all good things but I know my brother all too well." He jokes just as the older Winchester enters the doorway. "Point me to the direction of the bathroom?" He asks and promptly exits with direction, leaving the two men behind. As much as he looks forward to getting to know his brother-in-law there are some things that he didn't need to bear witness to. Taking note of the second toothbrush by the sink, he takes his time washing his hands and splashing cold water on his face.

  
When he finally makes his way back to the living room he finds the two men locked in a close embrace. John's arms draped around Dean's waist, forehead pressed against his brother's shoulder. Dean's cheek rested against the others hair, arms wrapped around him just as tightly. The eldest Winchester looks up then and meeting his younger brother's eyes his face splits with a goofy grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes yet makes him look ten years younger.

  
It suddenly hits him that his big brother is undeniably and irrevocably in love with John Watson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awkward ending. Check.  
> Lol there is literally no reason why this took forever to update. I'll try not to do it again.

**Author's Note:**

> Kintsukuroi- "To repair with gold"; the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.
> 
> Next Chapter: John POV


End file.
